Drunk Last Night
by linkmoon7
Summary: Did she still hate him? Denny didn't even know. All he knew was that he wanted another shot.


**So, I'm currently on Active Duty hours for the next few weeks, and sitting down and writing a random one shot feels GREAT! Relieves the stress.**

**Anyways, I was listening to the song Drunk Last Night [Eli Young Band] and it instantly made me think of Denny. He is, by far, one of Vaughn's biggest competitors for WHO SHOULD I PICK?! bachelors. But he seems to get the short end of the stick. **

**I feel like even someone as happy and go-lucky as him has there moments, or little thoughts that they keep bubbled up all the time. Time to explore Denny's angsty side! :3**

**I had a lot of fun writing this, and hope you enjoy! :D [ah, and I also had an inspiration song for Chelsea. It was 'I Feel Bad' by Rascal Flatts]**

**/Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon of any of it's Characters/**

* * *

Denny stared up at the ceiling fan drawing lazy circles in the air, the light whoosh the only sound in the dark room. He sighed, rolling sideways in bed. The glowing red numbers on the clock told him it was only two minutes past twelve. A flash of lightning outside the window caused Denny to glance outside. It was raining. _Pouring_, actually, the rain coming down in thick sheets.

Rubbing his hands down his face to his neck, Denny sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He winced slightly as his bare feet made contact with the icy floor. It was just as cold as every other night he had to sleep alone since..her.

Padding into the kitchen, Denny rummaged around in the cabinet for a glass. Maybe some warm milk would help put his mind at ease enough to sleep. Even as he thought this, he knew it was in vain. Nothing ever kept those thoughts away anymore. Nothing helped, except...Denny pulled his hand out of cabinet as if it had been burned. Sitting in the left back corner was a clunky square bottle, pushed off to the side.

Wrapping a hand around the bottle, Denny slowly pulled it out and wiped the label with his shirt sleeve. Staring back at him was a half full bottle of hard liquor, bought during a weak moment in the local shop.

Slamming the bottle down on the table, Denny turned around hastily, determined not to make the same mistake once again. He took two strides away, and paused. He glanced behind his shoulder, before slowly turning back around. The amber gaze of the golden liquid followed his every move. He took a step closer to the counter, re gripping the bottle neck once more. It was pretty hard stuff. Four shots of the poison would have him almost down for the count. Denny grimaced, his grip tightening on the bottle. It WAS pretty chilly tonight. Maybe just half a shot would be alright. Just enough to warm him up so he could sleep. Yeah. That should be okay, right?

He slid open a side drawer and pulled out a tiny silver shot glass. Setting it on the table, he unscrewed the top of the bottle and splashed a small amount of the liquid inside. He grabbed the shot with a shaking hand, drinking before he could think anymore about it. Now he just needed to wait for it to kick in.

Sliding out a kitchen chair, Denny plopped down sideways, resting his forearm on the wooden backing. He fiddled with the small radio he kept on the table, usually only using it when he went out on his boat for long fishing trips. Maybe a little bit of music could help pass the few minutes it would take for that warmth to come. Flipping the on switch, the Radio was already set to his favorite country station. Good. Denny loved country. The song started out slow, about lost love and doing wrong. Denny's eye twitched. He did not want to think about 'lost love' right now. It was only on his brain every other moment, keeping him awake almost every damn night. He didn't mean to lose it. And why the _hell_ wasn't that warmth kicking in yet?

With the song still drawling on in the background, Denny reached out and pulled the bottle and glass down to the table, pouring himself another half glass. He downed it a little faster than the first, setting the glass down with a slight clang.

He couldn't get her off his brain. Why did she always creep into his head every rainy night? He was starting to hate early spring, with all its late night showers.  
It's not like he meant to hurt her. He hadn't been thinking straight, just like now. She couldn't hate him forever. Did she still hate him now? He didn't even know. She acted like she normally did whenever she saw him in public, as did he, but he saw it. That haunting sadness that was always behind her eyes. The sadness he put there. The sadness that was reflected in his own eyes if he started in the mirror for to long.

Before he could even blink, Denny guzzled down another shot. He needed to get her off his brain. The alcohol should help. It _HAS_ to. The warmth should be coming. Any minute now.

Growing more and more frustrated at the lack of numbness as every minute passed, Denny threw down another shot. He felt his vision go a little fuzzy, but the warmth still refused to come, and she still refused to leave.

_Well fine then, if she refuses to leave, then I'll just call her. Then I'll finally be able to sleep._

Denny got up and went over to the small phone on his bedside table, stumbling slightly on his way. He put the receiver up to his ear, focusing hard on pushing the right buttons with his shaking finger.

* * *

The loud shrill of a ringing phone roused Chelsea from her slumber. Who the hell could be calling this late at night? She glanced at her bedside table, the numbers on the clock there reading just a bit past one.

Rubbing her eyes, she threw back her covers and dragged herself out of bed, wanting to stop the loud cry of the phone before it woke the dark shape sleeping beside her. Leaning one shoulder against the wall, Chelsea put the receiver to her ear, stiffing a yawn.

"Hello?" She mumbled, running her fingers through her hair.

"C-chelseaa" A slurred voice answered "Why won't you let me sleep?"

Chelsea stood up straight from the wall, glancing again at the dark figure asleep in her bed. She cupped her hand around the receiver, leaning forward slightly.

"Denny?" She whispered, still throwing glances behind her shoulder.

"Yesh!"

At his loud reply, Chelsea winced and curled her fingers further around the receiver. She couldn't handle this again. Not now. Not after she had finally found a way. She quickly and quietly made her way to the door, slipping outside and letting it click softly shut behind her. Now she could talk.

"Denny.." She paused, sighing "Denny, are you drunk?"

"I am not _drunk_" The slur in his words pointed out his obvious lie "I just had a couple shots to help me relax, but-"

"If you're so relaxed now, why are you calling me then?" She cut him off, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyesin frustration.

"That's just the thing, I _can't_ relax, Chels. I just _CAN'T_." The use of her nickname caused Chelsea to shiver, small goosebumps spreading out over her arms "I'm to tired to fight anymore. I miss you"

Chelsea closed her eyes, her mouth pressing into a thin line

"Maybe you should of thought about that before you left, Denny" Chelsea felt surprised at the coldness in her own voice. Shouldn't her heart be breaking right now? Usually every time Denny called her drunk she was a mess of tears and heartbreak afterwards.

"I know" Chelsea could hear a slight thickness in Denny's voice "I don't know why I did it. She never loved me, and I always loved you. Popuri was a mistake..the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life"

A ragged sob filled the speaker, making Chelsea start slightly. Denny was _crying_? He had called her drunk plenty of times before. Each phone call was always different, ranging from angry to denile and everything in between, but Denny had never _CRIED_ before.

"I need you back, Chelsea. I'm a mess without you. I promise I'll never go anywhere again. That blue feather is still in my nightstand, waiting to be held by you" He continued to sob as he rambled, as if he couldn't get the words out fast enough. "And I'm still waiting to be held by you. I know I've told you all this before, gotten it all off my chest, but its never off my _mind_. Please, I need you. Come back to me, Chels, please."

Chelsea opened her eyes, not bothering to wipe away the small tear that trickled down her cheek. How many days, weeks, _months_, had she longed to hear those words? How many moments throughout each long day did she need to fake a smile to convince everyone that she was fine-oh-just-fine. How long had she sat in her empty farmhouse, Denny's old purple bandana gripped tightly in her fist as she cried silently, alone.

When did that purple bandana become replaced with a pair of purple eyes? When was that first day that she dried her eyes and decided some company would do her good? She had forgot how good it felt to just smile, without having to think about it. She remembered the day she first held another mans hand. It had been large and warm, the leather of his gloves slightly rough.

"Denny.."Chelsea's voice came out slightly shaky, knowing the blow that she was about to deliver. But this had to be done "I've..  
moved on"

The receiver went silent for a moment, the ragged sound of breathing the only thing filling up the still air.

"Moved..on?"Denny said slowly

Chelsea kicked a rock next to her foot, leaning back against the side of her house and looking up at the star filled night sky. She could hear the pain in his voice. She felt like she was cold as stone. It felt almost.._wrong_ to be this calm. She almost wished her heart _was _breaking. But..it wasn't. She was no longer alone and bitter. The thought of losing Denny was no longer agonizing. It felt almost lightening to finally get rid of the numbness, the tiredness.

"Yes, Denny. Moved on. You left me a wreck. I couldn't function, couldn't even smile normally. I put up a front that everyone bought. Everyone but one person. He taught me how to live again, Denny, and we're happy together."

"But.. I love you! I feel worse about what happened and want nothing more than to .."

"Denny" Chelsea said his name softly but firmly. She heard him pause, and let out a breath "I loved you Denny. So much so that Iwould have said yes to marrying you"

"Then say yes now!" Denny pleaded "It can work, I know it can!"

"But it can't" Chelsea said sadly, another tear leaking out of the corner of her eye"I can't tare myself up over throwing our love away anymore. What we had was beautiful, and it will always have a special place in my heat, I have Vaughn now Denny, and you need to move on too. I've already let it go. I want nothing but happiness for you, but it can't be with me. Please just..let me go."

With that Chelsea ended the call, letting her hand drop to her side. After a few moments, she slowly walked back into the house, placing the phone back in the receiver.  
As she crawled back into bed, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist. She let them pull her close, tucking her head under the owners chin.

"What were you doing" Vaughn murmured into her hair.

"Nothing" Chelsea sighed "Just making sure this is the last night" She whispered to herself, as she slowly drifted back to sleep, finally feeling peaceful.

* * *

Denny heard a soft click of a line ending in his ear, and was left just staring at the phone in his hand. He felt...he didn't know what he felt. His head hurt. He got up from the table, stumbling back to his bed and flopping down. Could he ever really..let her go?

All that had been on his brain was her ever since the break up. Ever since the day he had made that terrible mistake. He had done nothing, thought of nothing, but making it up to her, of writing his wrong. But what if that was all it was. Denny paused as he thought of this. Was this all just to...ease his conscious? He knew he would always love her, no matter what, she would always be the first women he ever loved. But maybe he should..move on?

Next thing he knew, he was waking up to the strong rays of daylight. He threw his hand in front of his face to shield his eyes from the light. He couldn't remember much of what he said last night. He remembered breaking down and...Chelsea's plea for him to let her go.

Denny waited for the familiar pain to hit at the thought of her, but instead of the sharp twist of his gut, all he felt was a dull ache. Maybe he..really should try to move on. Maybe it was about time.

Getting out of bed, Denny walked over to the sink and poured himself a glass of water, chugging it in a matter of seconds. He was expecting a hangover, but was feeling fine. He felt like he had just gotten a good eight hours of sleep, thought he couldn't have caught more than three or four.

Just then three loud knocks sounded on Denny's front door. He ambled over to the door, pulling it open to reveal a pretty blonde woman, grinning up at him.

"Hiya!" She giggled "My name is Lana. I'm a famous pop star, but am on a break to just enjoy my favorite pass time-Fishing!"

Denny felt his lips pulling up into the goofy grin he used to flash at Chelsea all the time. It felt strange on his lips. When was the last time he gave anybody  
this grin?

"Names Denny, nice to meet ch'a! I'm the fisherman of this island, so anytime you wanna talk fish, I'm your man!" Denny felt his smile grow wider as this Lana giggled again. He forgot how good it felt to smile at someone..

And finally, Denny felt a small spot of warmth he had been searching for blossom in his chest.


End file.
